


The Word of Your Body

by goosepillows



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Established Relationship, Intimacy, M/M, One Shot, POV Third Person, Post Robert Ending, Sex, body talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goosepillows/pseuds/goosepillows
Summary: Walter is soft and small. His movements are gentle and his touch is light.Robert is rough and strong. His hands are coarse and his touch is deliberate.Their bodies are opposite and imperfect, sometimes broken, and entirely precious to one another.A short prose piece set after the events ofAlternative Steps, when Walter and Robert are a little more stable and very much together.





	The Word of Your Body

**Soft**

To Robert, everything about Walter is soft, and it’s something he reminds Walter of often.

“Don’t go soft on me now,” he’ll say, half joking, and Walter will reply, “Not a chance.”

He says it sometimes in the dark, absentmindedly, as he strokes Walter’s arms, legs, back.

“Soft,” he says so quietly, it’s almost to himself.

It’s the way he sinks under Robert’s touch, the way his body gives way, the malleability with which he accepts Robert’s every movement.

It’s his voice in the morning, when the morning sun wakes them through the cracks in the shutters. It’s every groggy mumble and sigh. It’s his half-asleep whispers as they drift off together on the couch.

It’s the hitch in his breathing when Robert grips him, goes deeper, slower, bites down harder. It’s the little “pleases” and “mores” that you can't hear unless you're listening for them. With the way Robert hangs onto his every word, he never misses a single one.

It’s his lips on Robert’s skin—pillowy, smooth, gently grazing and pressing, wrapping around his cock and leaving trails down his torso. It’s the little kisses he leaves on Robert’s face and forehead when words defy expression.

It’s his smiles in the little, domestic moments, when Robert casually places his hand in Walter’s, or absentmindedly rubs his back.

Walter laughs. “What did you say?”

Robert moves his mouth towards his ear and, after a gentle kiss on the cheek, whispers, “You’re soft.”

**Rough**

Robert’s hands drive Walter crazy. He loves everything about them; that mysterious (sexy) tattoo he STILL refuses to talk about; the callouses, cuts, scars and bruises; the deliberate way he moves them, the direct gestures he makes; the strength with which he grips Walter’s shoulders, his thighs, the back of his neck, his hair. When he moves his hands along Walter’s body, he can feel every mark, every imperfection gently scraping against his skin.

In idle moments, Walter will sometimes pick up one of Robert’s hands and examine them. He traces the lines in his palm and kisses every mark. They’re different from Walter’s hands; where his are lithe and smooth, Robert’s are sturdy. They show signs that he’s lived. They’re rough, but they’re strong, just like Robert.

It’s that roughness that draws Walter to him. It’s the way he doesn’t mince words and doesn’t say anything unnecessary. It’s the way he’s constantly swearing, no matter what the situation is. It’s the feel of his stubble against his cheek, rubbing hard as they kiss, leaving his face sore in the morning.

To say that Robert is rough in bed is, well…an understatement. He grips at Walter with everything he has, leaving bruises on his wrists and waist. He movements are brash, sometimes quick and spontaneous, but other times slow, painful, and deliberate. He is reckless, carefully measured force.

It’s strangely freeing and exhilarating to hand yourself over to someone in that way, and despite his roughness, Robert has never once crossed a line, and Walter would give him anything if he asked.

**Light**

There’s a lightness to Walter that’s difficult to describe. He moves with a certain grace and fluidity, a…that’s just the word, lightness. He reminds Robert of a bird sometimes, the way he flourishes his hands when he talks and the swift, flighty way he walks.

That, and he’s light as a feather. Standing about five inches shorter than Robert, and weighing about 140 pounds soaking wet, he’s considerably smaller. His body is strange and awkward, and he’s simultaneously spindly and short. The way his limbs move sometimes make him seem like he was born into the wrong body, like a baby deer still learning how to walk. Around the edges, though, he’s still soft.

Walter likes to use his size to his advantage. Robert doesn’t mind it, either.

Every once and a while, Robert will be kissing Walter, and with little effort, he’ll hoist himself up and wrap his legs around his torso. The first time it happened, Robert was surprised by how easy it was to hold him up, and how good it felt to have Walter surrounding him, trusting Robert not to drop him.

He’s easy to throw onto the bed as well.

Once, Robert walked into Walter’s house, only to find him passed out in his armchair, with one leg on the arm and his head drooping off the side. It couldn’t have been good for his neck. After some deliberation, Robert walked over to the armchair, placed one arm under Walter’s neck and the other under the bend in his knees, and lifted him up. Walter stirred, then wrapped his arms around Robert.

“Hey, stranger,” He said.

“Hey,” Robert replied. Walter sighed and placed his head on Robert’s chest. Then, he looked up.

“Are you carrying me?”

Robert chuckled. “Apparently.”

“That’s…really hot,” he murmured, then gently kissed Robert’s chest through his shirt. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“Where falling asleep won’t give you a neck injury.”

Eyes closing, Walter whispered, “Smart,” then drifted off as Robert carried him to bed.

Walter’s slight form curled into Robert’s perfectly, and as he fell asleep that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about how their bodies locked into one another’s so well, and how right it felt.

**Heavy**

Walter has always been a sucker for a size difference, and Robert is no exception. It’s not just his height, though. It’s the comfort of his weight resting on top of him, pushing down on him, pressing on him as they move together. When they sleep in the same bed, Robert will sometimes drape himself across Walter, with his head on his chest, and his arms and legs crossing Walter’s body, and Walter will think to himself, “Maybe I don’t need to buy a weighted blanket.”

Robert’s body is taut and muscular, but surprisingly soft, particularly in his stomach area. With no shirt on, Robert’s stomach sticks out slightly over his jeans and moves as he does. It’s something Robert doesn’t seem to like about himself, something about his age and years of drinking starting to show, but Walter feels the opposite. For one thing, it makes for a comfortable headrest. But moreover, it’s imperfect, it’s human, and it’s incredibly sexy.

Robert’s voice is heavy. In the low, quiet moments, it’s deep and gravelly, and at full volume, it’s booming and surprisingly jovial. His laugh is hearty and guttural, and his sighs and huffs are always voiced.  He moans from a place deep within himself, and when he comes, his voice becomes a strangled rasp.

When he’s not thinking about it, Robert hums and sings to himself in low tones, and though he can’t carry a tune, Walter can’t help but love the sound.

**Passionate**

Walter’s appearance is unassuming. He’s small, and skinny, and dresses like a librarian. His speaking voice is gentle, and while it isn’t quiet, it isn’t exactly loud either.

Robert had no idea what he was getting into. He thought he’d have to slow it down for Walter, let him ease into things, and only test him, push him, when he was ready.

As it turns out, Walter can keep up. He can keep up just fine.

**Gentle**

Despite what initially drew him to Robert, the thing Walter is most fond of is his gentleness.

It’s a well-protected secret, that Robert Small has a heart after all. But he does. He gives it over freely, and often.

He is not broken. He has not forgotten how to love. Because he loves Walter so well.

**Mine**

At the end of the day, they belong to each other.

Not in the way people normally say it, not in the possessive, unhealthy, "You belong to me" sort of way.

It's more like, "I'm damaged goods, but I'm here."

It's "I'm yours, if you'll have me."

And when they're laying together, naked and in the darkness, that's what they are.

They are themselves, and they are each other's, and they are not broken. Just mending.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece has been sitting in my drafts, unfinished, for ages. I'm still chugging away on Alternative Steps, so I figured I'd post this in the meantime.  
> Thanks for reading & much love <3


End file.
